


Not Most People

by OftheSea



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Non magic AU, first meeting AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-11
Updated: 2016-07-11
Packaged: 2018-07-22 20:46:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,044
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7453395
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OftheSea/pseuds/OftheSea
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Well alright, fine, be a prick about it.”</p><p>On any other night, Remus would have let it go. If he wasn’t in a strange country with people he didn’t really care about, lonely and bitter about the prospect of having to return home only to admit to his father that he was right, this was a terrible idea, he would have let it go. But alas, on this night all of those things were true all at once.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Not Most People

Remus Lupin does not go to bars. Not for a noble or moral reason, simply because paying to drink fancy American cocktails while surrounded by boisterous Americans was not something Remus Lupin was interested in. To be fair to Americans, he also wasn’t interested in drinking in the pubs that littered London or the tinier pubs scattered around the Welsh coast either. Remus was really only interested in drinking if it was in the company of close friends alone and one of those close friends was paying.

And yet, here he is, standing in an extremely hip (meaning extremely over-priced) gay bar in San Francisco. He is surrounded by strangers, abandoned by his new friends from the university—who favored a quick hook up on the dance floor over him—and sipping a drink that seems to Remus to have far too much fruit in it to be respectable.

Then, there’s a body. It is clumsy and sweaty and being thrown against Remus’s back, forcing him to spill his Raspberry Cosmopolitan all over his front side.

Remus pushes himself away from the bar and the body impeding on his space, turning to examine exactly what kind of prick just ruined not only his drink, but his favorite button-up as well.

“For FUCK’S sake!”

“Oh bullocks! Fucking hell mate I’m so sorry. Let me help you, I’ll just- OI CAN WE GET SOME NAPKINS OVER HERE- let me here I’ll— “

There is a pair of hands all over Remus’s now damp front, blotting frantically with cocktail napkins.

“Get off me ma— “

Remus moves his gaze up from the hands berating him (nails painted an enchanting shade of dark purple) and to the face of the person they belong to. He stops short.

Standing before him is a human, or at least Remus is pretty sure they’re just a human. He would say possibly a demigod if he believed in that sort of thing, but alas he does not, so a human, yes just a human. A human with black, slightly wavy strands of raven hair falling out of the bun at the back of their head and into their eyes. A human with the sharpest, not to mention well defined, cheekbones Remus has ever seen and a set of pale grey eyes that remind Remus of the shade of the sea off the coast of Wales, right before a storm. Those eyes are accented by a thick layer of gold glitter covering their eyelids. The effect is shocking and devastatingly beautiful.

Remus coughs, collects himself. “You’ve done enough, thanks.”

Remus takes the napkins from their hands, not altogether gently, and turns away. No matter how beautiful they might be, Remus was still soaking wet and probably going to smell like raspberries and liquor all night.

Remus hears a small noise of annoyance from the presence still standing behind him, but chooses to ignore it. “Well alright, fine, be a prick about it.”

On any other night, Remus would have let it go. If he wasn’t in a strange country with people he didn’t really care about, lonely and bitter about the prospect of having to return home only to admit to his father that he was right, this was a terrible idea, he would have let it go. But alas, on this night all of those things were true all at once.

“Excuse me?” Remus swivels his body back around to tower over the relatively petite stranger, “I’M not the one who just crashed into a total stranger, I’M not the one with a total disregard for anyone but myself. That’s you mate.”

The stranger crosses their arms over their chest, indignant. “It was a fucking accident! You don’t need to be such a wanker about it, I said sorry!”

“Oh, you’re sorry? Well that makes it all better. You know, just because you have that face doesn’t mean you can get away with anything. That’s not how life works!” Remus pushes a finger into the stranger’s chest, emphasizing his last point.

“I’d remove that finger from my person. If I have to do it, it might not be in working order when you get it back.”

“Oh is that right? I didn’t know hobbits brawled.” 

The stranger backs up, a look of absolute shock on their face, which quickly devolves into fury. “Ok that’s it, Treebeard. Fight me. Fight me right now, you attractive stranger!”

The stranger crouches down into an entirely flawed fighting stance, fists up, gesturing for Remus to approach them.

It is Remus’s turn to look shocked. Attractive? This probable model is calling HIM attractive? Remus knows he is probably blushing profusely. He hopes the dim lighting conceals it. “You know; most blokes don’t flirt with someone while threatening to punch them in the face.”

The stranger straightens up slightly, but keeps their fists raised. It just barely hides the small smirk developing on their face. “Oh, I’m not most blokes, mate. Actually, I’m not really a bloke at all. Just person works fine, thanks.”

Remus immediately sobers, the heat of the fight is replaced by chilling shame, “Oh shit, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to assume, that was rude. They/them pronouns then?”

The stranger is taken aback. They pause for a moment, then smile, nod. “Yeah. You know, most people don’t ask for the other person’s preferred pronouns right after that other person threatens to punch them.”

Remus smiles too, “Oh, I’m not most people, mate.”

“Yeah. Yeah I can see that…” The stranger lets their sentence trail off, an inquiry.

“Remus. I’m Remus.”

The stranger takes the hand Remus offers them.

“Sirius. You can call me Sirius.”

“Not Frodo?”

Sirius lands a punch directly on Remus’s upper arm.

“Oi! There’s no need for violence!”

Sirius shrugs and begins to back away from Remus, still facing him.

“You got off easy, as far as I’m concerned. Now, are you going to dance with me or not, Remus?”

Remus smiles down at his drenched button down, then back up at Sirius, who stands an arm’s length away, their hand outstretched to Remus.

As Remus reaches out and takes Sirius’s hand, letting them pull him onto the crowded dance floor, he thinks maybe he doesn’t hate bars so much after all.

**Author's Note:**

> Written for a tumblr dialogue prompt: "Fight me, you attractive stranger."  
> my tumblr: firefranky.tumblr.com  
> Sirius is non-binary in this one 


End file.
